Happily Ever After
by Mccorv3
Summary: First came ONCE UPON A TIME, then they were HAPPILY EVER AFTER. A collection of one shots and shorter stories that follow Beth, Daryl, Hope and the rest of their family and friends.
1. Chapter 1 - Hershel

**A/N: Hello again! Here comes that sequel I promised. This is not going to follow any plot or plan. These will mostly be one shots, some may be connected. They will start with the same timeline order, but some may jump forward into the way future or may fall back. These will be written from different perspectives – first one will be Hershel. The chapter lengths will vary depending on topic. Enjoy!**

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 **Happily Ever After**

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Chapter 1 – Hershel

Hershel wiped the steam from the bathroom mirror with his hand, pushing the droplets of water around and generally just making a mess. At least that's what his Annette used to tell him. Hershel reached over and grabbed a hand towel, re-wiping the mirror as if his wife was there to cluck her tongue at him just as if she'd been alive to see the streaks made by his hand. His second wife, Annette, had been gone almost seven long years. They had been married for almost nineteen years when he'd lost her, but Hershel found he still missed her some days as if he'd lost her last week.

He lathered his face, taking his razor to it. Since it was Sunday, and no matter how low his mood was, Hershel needed to be clean shaven for service at church. He wasn't about to slack on that, no way no how. There was a sulky glower on his face, perhaps that was the reason why the razor cut him differently, nicking his jawline. Hershel stopped shaving as blood welled up from the small cut. Annoyed with himself Hershel glared as he grabbed at his hand towel, needing to press it to the wound to stop the red. _Blood_.

It wasn't the first time there had been blood in this bathroom. It probably wouldn't be the last, and it most definitely wouldn't be the worst. The worst was when he'd seen the blood smeared on this youngest daughter's wrist, her mouth open in a weeping pain. Her agony had been more from grief than the sliced flesh. Beth had locked herself in this bathroom, cutting her wrist in a desperate attempt.

Hershel pressed the white towel to his cut, removing the stain of blood from his vision, but it didn't stop the memory it caused to flash forward. Beth had thought harming herself was the way out of endless pain and crushing grief. She had wanted to stop everything, to stop thinking, stop breathing, to just stop living. Beth had cried, wailing so hard when Maggie and he had finally been able to bust the door open. Beth had professed her regret immediately. She was so sorry, she hadn't wanted to die; it had taken a moment of weakness to realize that. Hershel had just buried her mother the day before, her brother the week before that. He had buried two wives in his life, Hershel wasn't about to bury as second child.

Hershel drew in a shaky breath. It had been so long ago, but not long enough apparently. He didn't know if it would ever be long enough to wipe the image of Beth crying, bleeding, and begging to be forgiven. That would probably never happen.

His bleeding stopped, and Hershel finished shaving. Once done with his morning ritual in the bathroom, he dressed slowly. Hershel wasn't as young as he once was; he had to take it easy on his old joints. It wasn't like he was in any hurry. The necessary morning chores were already done with the livestock, and no one was waiting on him for breakfast downstairs. He was alone in the house.

Hershel literally couldn't remember a time when he'd slept alone in this house before this year. Oh, he knew it would come someday. His girls had to leave him sooner or later; that was the nature of how the world worked. He knew he should have been prepared for it, but it seemed like he didn't handle the recent one too well. Hershel Greene had done something he rarely did anymore, he'd let his anger lash out. He had fought with Beth.

It wasn't that Hershel was mad at his youngest daughter for spending a few nights away from the home with Dixon. He might not approve, as he hadn't when Maggie had started spending half her time at that Glenn's place back before they'd been engaged. It had been hard, but Hershel had accepted his daughter was a grown woman and could make her own choices.

At least that's what Hershel told himself while it stewed in him, his little girl spending the night over at some man's house with his baby granddaughter. Since the situation had come up abruptly his displeasure to the idea didn't have much time to fester, but it didn't stop him from boiling over when he'd finally confronted Beth. He just hadn't been able to stay silent. He knew he was just being old fashioned, that the world had moved on, and this arrangement between his daughter and Dixon was more common than not, but he still couldn't help but disapprove. Hershel was old when he'd had Beth, over forty when she had been born. He was too set in his ways not to tell her it was wrong, a bad example for her young daughter.

Only now Hershel was regretting how he handled Friday night. It wasn't necessarily what he said, he still stood by his set of morals, but he should have expressed himself differently. He should have calmly let Beth know he knew it was her choice but also let her know it didn't sit right with how she was raised, that he had some concerns. The whole situation happened so fast. He shouldn't have bellowed, he shouldn't have lectured.

Beth was a good person and a good daughter, she'd always been. That's why it had been so surprising when she'd hurt herself, it had been so unexpected. Her grief had piled on so heavily, she hadn't wanted to burden anyone else with it. It had also been shocking two years later when Beth had announced she was pregnant from a one night stand. Until those occurrences, Maggie and Shawn had been the only reasons behind his white hair, never his little Beth. She had gotten good grades, sang in the church choir, and volunteered at the local library to read to children. She hadn't given him an ounce of trouble since shocking him with the existence of Hope. She worked hard, was a great mother to her daughter, and was trying to elevate herself by going to college.

Hershel wasn't thrilled when Beth had spent that first night at Dixon's place over off Elwood Street – Oh, yes, Hershel knew where Daryl lived. He'd asked around and found out. There was no way he wasn't going to know where his grandbaby was staying when Hope had started spending more time with her father. And when it had just been Beth, a grown adult woman, Hershel had kept his mouth shut.

But then it had been Beth and _Hope_ together, and that just didn't seem right for a reason Hershel wasn't hundred percent sure he could explain suitably. It wasn't like the man wasn't Hope's own daddy. It wasn't like Daryl was a bad man; he'd made huge strides to become a better man this year for both Beth and Hope and atone for the past. While Daryl wasn't exactly horrible, he hadn't always been great either. Hershel had done his damn best as a father and man to stay out of daughter's affairs back when Daryl had first shown up on his porch that fateful evening. Hershel had refrained from socking the younger man in the jaw like he had deserved. Hershel knew it took two to tango and Beth wasn't innocent either so unless he'd been ready to punish both, Hershel couldn't in good conscious punish just one. And how could he think about punishment for an act where his Hope had been the outcome.

Maybe his problem was that the man was changing so fast and dramatically, changing his daughter's world. It worried Hershel that Daryl could reverse his course, run back and away and leave both his girls with broken hearts. He knew people could change and quickly. He sure as hell had when presented with his first child, Maggie. Hershel had gone cold turkey on the drinking, found his Lord, and became a changed man almost overnight. He wasn't sure why he couldn't trust another man to do the same thing for the sake of his child.

Hershel walked downstairs and had a small breakfast of coffee and oatmeal, mulling over his own mistake while eating. If Beth and Hope had been home, Hershel would have made some toast with honey also, but he wouldn't have eaten it alone. He would have had a delighted little girl to share with, but instead he sat alone at his table in a sullen mood.

After his lonely breakfast, Hershel travelled to church. It was the Lord's Day and going to church would hopefully help center him. Perhaps by listening to Father Gabriel's sermon he might find the strength to admit he might have been wrong, or maybe at least apologize for how harshly he'd brought up his concerns. Hershel wasn't sure if he was wrong in condemning his daughter's life choice, but he sure could have expressed himself better.

Hershel chatted with a few other parishioners before service started. Mary Winters in particular tried to have his ear today. Mary was a widower like him, losing her husband a few years back to complications with diabetes. She invited him over for dinner… again. Mary did so every few months lately. Hershel had been running out of excuses, not wanting to hurt the nice lady's feelings but not feeling the need to deepen their casual acquaintance. Mary was younger than him; she still had a spring in her step and wasn't too bad on the eyes, but Hershel just wasn't interested. He had been married, loved and buried two wives. He was done. He didn't know if his heart could take losing another, the first two had almost destroyed him.

Once he'd delicately escaped the invite from Mrs. Winters, Hershel took his place in his family's usual pew. It wasn't long afterwards that Maggie and Glenn breezed in and took the spot next to him. It was the seating that Beth and Hope usually sat in. From the nervous smile on Glenn and the bland chatter from Maggie, it was apparent to Hershel that both knew of the disagreement between him and Beth from Friday night. Hershel held up his end of the conversation with them while keeping an eye on the door, waiting for Beth to arrive. Minutes ticked away without hint of his daughter and his granddaughter, Hershel started to shift uncomfortably in the pew. Beth was never this late to service.

Just as service was about to begin, Hershel saw movement out of the corner of his eyes. They snuck in along the back while everyone rose as Father Gabriel took his place at the podium. Hershel sighed with relief as he saw Beth and Hope filling in the end of their pew. And then, much to Hershel's surprise, Daryl appeared, taking the last seat at the end.

Hershel looked over at his youngest daughter, trying to get her attention and have her acknowledge him, but Beth wouldn't glance in his direction. She got her family situation, showing Daryl the hymnal, and started to sing with rest of the congregation. Her attention purposely focused forward or on the fidgety Hope next to her, refusing to acknowledge his questioning look. Daryl stood quietly next to Beth, looking uncomfortable in his button up shirt and probably the best pair of jeans he owned. Hershel was more than a little impressed his daughter got the older man to follow her lead and come to church with her. Beth had influence over that man, Daryl had alluded to it before, and now Hershel could see that it was true.

The service was good, but Hershel found it hard to concentrate on Father Gabriel's sermon. He did not like the tension that was in his family, even worse knowing he had caused it. Once service was over, the family gathered in the foyer. Small talk was made about the plans for the day. Beth continued to avoid his earnest eyes while Daryl hovered protectively next to her. Hershel wanted to talk with his youngest daughter, but he still wasn't exactly sure what he was going to say as he was still stuck on the problem. He couldn't approve of his girls going there, but it wasn't necessarily his place to be so judgmental and horrible about it either.

His daughters let him know they would be to the farm for dinner per the usual. They had never made a point of calling it out before so purposely, that alone let Hershel know how upset he'd made his youngest. Both had errands and family affairs to attend to before they would arrive later.

Sunday dinners were a tradition within the Greene household. Hershel was glad he had his girls close enough to enjoy them with him always. There were times when they were in college or away out of town when they weren't able to make it, but they always made an effort when they could. Annette and he had raised good children. He bid his family farewell, each going in their own direction before coming to the farm later.

While it hadn't been called out, it did not surprise Hershel when Daryl showed up with Hope and Beth. Recently, Daryl had started to enjoy Sunday dinners with the rest of the extended Greene clan. Daryl was family, the father of his granddaughter, so Hershel was glad he came. However today he wasn't grateful. Hershel still wanted to speak with Beth alone, to talk out their conflict, but that wasn't going to happen with Daryl standing around Beth constantly.

Hershel stood by, watching as his family filtered into the house. His girls headed straight to the kitchen. There was no doubt that Maggie and Hope were only helping Beth, the actual cook. Maggie, with all her skills on the operating table or with clients, couldn't cook to save her soul. It was a good thing Glenn didn't love her for her culinary skills.

They looked so busy, hands moving, pots out and aprons on. Maggie and Beth chatted, but nothing important was being said as Glenn tried to interest Daryl in the football game Hershel had on the television. Hershel found that all eyes seemed to be avoiding him. He frowned heavily. He didn't like the tension in the air, not one bit. Only little Hope had greeted him with her normal gusto. Nope, this wouldn't stand.

Hershel walked into the kitchen, a slight limp from a stiff knee hampered him. "Beth," he said in his baritone voice. "I need to speak with you."

Beth minced the herbs on the cutting board with expert precision. "Daddy, I'm a little busy right now."

His frown deepened as his chest pushing forward as he stood taller. "Beth," he stated more sternly.

"Uh, Daddy, we are a bit busy," injected Maggie as she and Hope scrubbed the potatoes. "Can't it wait 'til later," she offered with a nervous energy, obviously trying to play the peacemaker – Beth's normal role.

Hershel chose to ignore his eldest daughter, his attention focused entirely on Beth as he took a few more steps in and closer to her at the center island. Daryl appeared as a shadow in the doorway, still chatting with Glenn, but Hershel knew his eye was on him and Beth. Hershel knew he should be proud his daughter had a suitor that cared so much and worried about her, but instead it annoyed him. He felt undermined.

Beth drew in a deep breath and set her knife down, her blue eyes meeting her father's for the first time that day. "Dad, I know we need to talk. I'm plannin' on it. But not now… after dinner perhaps." Her eyes momentarily flicked to Daryl behind him before finding Hershel's again. "Daryl and I need to speak with you… together."

It was hard sometimes as a parent to realize your children were adults. It had been easy enough with Maggie after she'd graduated with her doctorate, grew into a fine veterinarian, and worked alongside him. Hershel saw her manage disasters and handle emotional clients. He watched her hold herself with confidence and poise. Maggie had married a fine man recently, moving into her own home. It was easy to see her as an adult.

Shawn had been a senior in college when they had lost him, but still he'd been on his way to becoming a fine young man. He had been home that summer, working on an internship with the forestry department. His passion for conservation had developed into a career path for him, making his parents proud. Hershel had been looking forward to the path his son had been on before losing him.

It was with Beth that Hershel still struggled with seeing his baby girl completely grown up. She was a mother, a grown woman, and he knew that. She had her own mind and earned her rights to live life as she pleased. Still, when Hershel looked at her, he didn't always see the capable adult she'd grown into despite his best efforts. Sometimes he had trouble seeing beyond the smaller and softer girl she had been, the one that had needed protection and direction.

Her defiance to his request and his own faulty inability to see her as an adult annoyed him greatly, flaring his temper more than he was used to. Hershel let out a grunt of agreement laced with irritation. He wasn't happy about being made to wait. As the patriarch of the family, he wasn't exactly used to that, to being pushed to the side and made to wait his turn.

Before he let loose words he didn't exactly mean, Hershel turned and stalked out of the kitchen. He brushed by Daryl as he exited the house. He probably should have grabbed his jacket since there was a chill in the air, but Hershel wasn't about to stop at the moment. He made his way to the barn; he had long changed from his good church clothes so that didn't worry him. There were always more chores to be done on the farm, and Hershel wasn't about to let his temper get the best of him again. He planned to work some of it off before dinner.

It wasn't long before Daryl entered the barn behind him. Hershel didn't stop from his manual labor, moving some of the newly delivered feed to its proper storage. Daryl said nothing, just came up alongside him and helped. They worked well together; a fact Hershel already knew from the summer

when Daryl had assisted while he'd been recovering. Damn heart of his couldn't take too much more so Hershel let up, allowing Daryl to do most of the heavy lifting. There was silence between the two men, not angry or uncomfortable, but it was there. His daughter's man wasn't a shy or skittish, but Daryl was a man of very few words.

After a good amount of work, Hershel finally felt winded enough to stop working. He wiped the fine sheen of sweat from his brow with a handkerchief from his back pocket. He wasn't as young as he used to be, a fact his body liked to remind him more and more of each day.

"Thank you, Daryl. I think we're done here," Hershel said with a deep, heavy breath. He was calmer and his anger was gone. He knew he could get through dinner like an adult now.

Daryl straightened up, dusting his hands off. His dark blue eyes flicked up to Hershel and then back down. "No problem," he uttered in the low gravelly voice of his, but he made no move toward the barn door like Hershel was. "Need to talk to you," Daryl stated evenly.

Hershel paused and turned back to Daryl, his old body stiffening. "That is what my daughter has informed me."

Daryl raised his eyes once again and locked them with Hershel as the two men stood before one another. That was the one thing about the younger man before him that Hershel understood. Daryl was quiet enough that some often could mistake that for shy or passive or low-spirited, but when you saw his eyes and he told you what he wanted you to know, a person understood Daryl was none of those things. Daryl Dixon was just a quiet man, and Hershel could appreciate that, but that didn't mean he wasn't ardent. Daryl was a hard worker, strong, and toiled to be a better man and father for Beth and Hope – at least recently.

Hershel took a step back towards Daryl, the younger man still holding his gaze. Daryl's look wasn't hard or intimidating, just serious and earnest. It let Hershel know the importance of what he was about to say.

"I suppose Beth told you I wasn't happy about their accommodations," Hershel stated the obvious. He might as well start with that.

Daryl nodded curtly. "Yes. And I can't say I don't disagree with you."

Hershel was visibly surprised by Daryl's response but said nothing. He just gave Daryl a blatantly shocked look. He didn't know if he could comprehend what he'd just heard. Hershel had not been expecting his daughter's suitor to agree with him on his daughter spending the night with him.

Daryl shifted, seeming uncomfortable under Hershel's long stare. "I wouldn't… I wouldn't want my lil girl goin' off and shackin' up with some man either," he explained, his eyes finally dropping to the floor.

Hershel snorted. "Yeah, I guess you wouldn't either, now would you?"

Daryl gave him a stiff nod. "I told Beth as much after we talked more about it this weekend."

Now Hershel was really surprised, his brows raised comically high on his face. This was not how he had anticipated his after dinner conversation going. Maybe that was why Daryl was out here talking to him now… without Beth.

Daryl seemed to grimace, rubbing at the slight stubble on his chin. He barely had a five o'clock shadow since he'd been clean shaven for church. For the first time Hershel noticed the behavior of this quiet man as something different. Daryl shifted his weight again from one foot to another. This man was nervous. Hershel had been too caught up in his mood to notice it in the younger man before.

"You might as well say it, son," Hershel urged him, seeing the growing anxiousness in Daryl.

Daryl drew in a deep breath for courage. "I asked Beth to marry me."

For some reason, that statement didn't add anymore shock to Hershel. Perhaps he was beyond being surprised by Daryl after everything else he'd said. For some reason those words didn't make his insides jump, no sense of panic washing over him.

"I take it my daughter said yes," Hershel commented evenly.

Daryl nodded slowly, trying to gauge Hershel's lack of reaction.

"You two didn't say anything. There is no ring on her finger," Hershel stated. While he wasn't surprised as he probably should have been, Hershel wasn't exactly sure what emotion he was supposed to be having. He wasn't angry. He wasn't ecstatic. Maybe he could be best described as cautiously reserved at the moment, perhaps a little annoyed at having to fund a second wedding so soon. He huffed a little at his own thought, having just finished paying off Maggie's nuptials.

"Just asked her Friday night. We decided to wait to say anythin'. I wanted to talk to you first," Daryl explained, looking wary of Hershel's dry reaction.

"To ask my blessing? It's a little late for that, young man, don't you think?" Hershel hadn't meant to sound so derisive, but he couldn't help the sharpness. Maybe it was the fact that Daryl hadn't actually asked before. Hershel was an old fashioned man. He knew it wasn't modern, but he sure as hell respected Glenn when he'd come to talk to him about Maggie and marriage. His daughters were more modern than he'd ever dreamed of so he knew neither would think it was warranted.

"I get it," Daryl relented in a low, tense voice. "You don't exactly approve of me…"

"I didn't say that," Hershel interjected, shifting his jaw out further. Even though it was in the past and Daryl had been making up for it, it still stung a little when Hershel thought of how Daryl's earlier neglect had negatively affect both Beth and Hope.

"Nah, you don't have to," Daryl objected. "And I didn't exactly ask her proper… the way she deserved, but Beth still said yes. I ain't exactly the man she deserves either, but again, she still said yes. I'm too damn old and it's happening pretty damn fast, but that don't change the fact that I love her. I _love_ her, Hershel. Can't believe I didn't see it right away, can't believe I waited so damn long after I realized it. I want her and Hope in my life… with me every day. I want to be a family, the kind Beth and Hope deserve. I love them both," Daryl got out, his words getting faster toward the end with the earnestness of his beliefs.

Hershel took a moment to ponder what Daryl just told him. His initial lack of reaction settled into a warmth in his chest, a spark that had been missing before. Hershel believed the younger man's words; he believed Daryl loved his girls and that's all that truly mattered in life.

"Length of time between knowing you love someone and marrying don't matter much in the grand scheme of the universe. Same with age as long as you're both consenting adults," offered Hershel smoothly, his tone offering ease to the tension that had been visible in Daryl. "I knew Beth's mother, Annette, about two months before I asked her to dinner. I asked her to be my wife on our third date, and we were married six weeks later. Top it all off, I was eighteen years older than her. None of that changed the fact that we both were in love, we both _knew_ this was it."

Daryl took in a deep, calming breath and accepted what seemed to be Hershel's vague approval.

There was more Hershel felt he needed to so suddenly; there was something he _wanted_ to do for his future son-in-law. "Follow me," he said, nodding towards the house.

Together the two men walked into the house. The scent of dinner floated in the air, making Hershel's stomach rumble. They didn't pause to explain what they had been doing, despite the curious looks both men got up entering the house. Maggie called after them to wash up as they made their way up the stairs, Hershel still leading with Daryl right behind him. Dinner was about to be served.

Hershel knew what he had planned wouldn't take long, but that didn't take away from the gravity of action. He led Daryl into his bedroom, slowing his pace as he approached his night stand. Hershel drew in a deep breath and sat on his bed, pulling a small box out from the top drawer. He held the velvet black box in his enclosed hand for a lingering moment, knowing it would most likely be the last time he'd be able to.

His old blue eyes rose to look at Daryl. "These are Beth's mother's rings," Hershel said heavily as he held the box out to Daryl.

Daryl hesitated, not reaching for the box in Hershel's out stretched hand. "You sure?"

Hershel nodded and pushed the ring box further towards the younger man. No, he didn't actually want to give them up, but he knew Annette would have wanted it. She had always planned on passing them along to one of her children.

Daryl still seemed uncertain, his mouth drawn into a flat line so Hershel wanted to reassure him. "Son, I want you to have these for Beth. I gave Glenn Maggie's mother's rings too. Beth gets her mama's. It's what my Annette wanted. You go ask her proper when you're ready… this time with a ring," Hershel ordered with a lift of his brows.

With his lips quirking up slightly in a smile, Daryl finally took the ring from Hershel. He opened the box to look at the set of golden rings, one with a round half karat diamond sparkling in the low light. Annette's face had glowed with absolute love when Hershel had slid that ring onto her elegant finger, her beautiful eyes shining brightly with unshed tears of happiness. Hershel hoped his daughter, who looked so much like her mother that it made him ache some days, had the same happy and loving reaction. Hershel knew she would if she had half the love for the man before him as Hershel could see in Daryl as he looked down at those rings in his hand.

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 **A/N: Hopefully you enjoyed that chapter. Let me know if there is something else you'd like to have written. I can't promise I can make it work, but I'll try - currently trying to work in a strip tease and bachelorette party… I'll try to post monthly or so…**


	2. Chapter 2 - Carol

**A/N: Summer is just too much fun so I won't be writing as much as I had thought. Here's a little tidbit to tide you over until the snow keeps me in (I think the only reason I got this one done yesterday is we got so much hail in our little neck of the woods, they actually had to plow the streets with trucks – no kidding!) Enjoy!**

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 **Happily Ever After**

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Chapter 2 – Carol

Carol pulled into the parking lot of the Red Rooster Diner, parking off to the side in her usual spot. Tyreese had told her to stay home and rest. Carol knew she didn't need to, that Tyreese was just being silly. There was no reason for her to stay home idly and rest. Carol had just needed to make a few phone calls and had promised to follow him into work shortly afterwards.

Now she was there a little later than she'd planned. Those few phone calls had her parked on hold with mind-numbing elevator music for longer than expected. Apparently there was a lot of paperwork involved when your ex-husband died.

The phone call had come yesterday afternoon. Carol hadn't spoke to her mother-in-law in… in… she couldn't remember exactly. There had been a few phone calls over the years, but they were mostly only to ask to speak to Sophia. Alice Pieter had never been a fan of Carol's during her marriage so that left very little for them to talk about once it had ended. Of course the divorce had been her fault, abandoning her man in his time of need. The time Ed spent in jail was also to be blamed on Carol; a better home life would have soothed her husband's temper. The fact that Alice or Ed never saw Sophia once in five years was also Carol's doing of course; she had taken Sophia so far away that neither could possibly afford to make the trip from Florida to Georgia.

None of what her former mother-in-law thought mattered to Carol, not one bit. Carol had escaped with Sophia five years before after Ed had been arrested for his third DUI. Ed was about to spend the next eighteen months in jail. It had been the perfect opportunity for them to run. And run they did. Carol hadn't had much of a plan when she'd packed up a few meager belongings in the car along with her nine year old daughter. She only knew that Ed finally couldn't follow her, he couldn't stop her. With a chest full of desperation and a fading bruise on her face from the week prior, she had driven away from the last fifteen years and her marriage to Ed Pieter.

As Carol had backed out of the cracked driveway with her daughter cautiously silent seated next to her in the front seat and the back filled to the brim with boxes, she hadn't known their destination. She had just run. She had run far and she had run hard. Carol had zigged and zagged until Florida and Ed were in her review mirror, and for the first time in more than a decade, Carol had felt she had been able to breathe. Really breathe…

There had only been a little cash in the checking account Carol had emptied out. With that and the partial security deposit back from their little rental house in her purse, Carol had found a way to make it last. There had been just enough for them to make it to a sleepy little town in Georgia, hidden and off the beaten path. Carol had found them a little place to rent, a dingy one bedroom apartment, but that was all they needed or could afford at the time.

It wasn't long before she had her first job, a minimum wage office cleaner for a local crew. It was a crappy job with bad hours, but it was money and Carol didn't have many skills. Ed hadn't wanted her to work after they had married. She had never bothered to finish the part-time community college program she had been attending after marrying Ed in a whirl wind romance. So all Carol really knew how to do was clean and cook and serve. Not much, but Carol was good at what she did. No matter what Ed had yelled at her over the years, she knew she could make a mean casserole and a damn fine banana bread as well clean the hell out of anything.

For a year they had lived, not just survived the day to day turmoil that had been their lives, but really lived. Carol had found a better job as a waitress at the Red Rooster. Instantly her life was filled with better people, wages and hours. Her beautiful, shy and skittish nine year old Sophia had blossomed into a happy, healthy and exuberate ten year old. Her daughter had a ton of new friends, an interest in soccer and a new found passion for smiling. Sophia was thriving. She no longer cried herself to sleep nor did she skitter away when her male soccer coach came to close to her. They were happy… except for one dark looming cloud over them – the release date of Ed Pieter.

Carol had known that Sophia needed to be protected at all costs. She knew she'd made the right decision, that impulsive and manic decision to run once she'd know he was to be locked up for more than a year. In a few months Ed had been set to be released. Sooner or later he'd be free and he'd come to find them. The terrifying prospect of had loomed over her night and day despite the absence of his physical presence. More than one sleepless night she had laid, eyes staring at the water stained ceiling, her mind endless running through options. Carol knew she had to try. There was no way either of them was going back to living with Ed Pieter.

It had taken Carol more than a year to build up the courage to contact a lawyer. She had been absolutely terrified that just by starting divorce proceedings it would allow Ed to find her. Despite those fears, Carol had known she and Sophia would never truly escape until she divorced her bastard of a husband. So she had done it, breathing in deeply, swallowing down the bile taste of fear, and had talked to a lawyer.

It had been simpler than she could have possibly hoped. Ed hadn't contested a damn thing. He had still been in jail, but he still could have made a stink and made everything difficult. In the end, they had dissolved their sixteen year marriage without ever seeing or talking with one another, just a little bit of paperwork.

Carol had gotten nothing but Sophia and she considered that her greatest victory. She was given none of the money from their other saving accounts, ones she hadn't had access to when she'd run a year before, or his work pension accounts. It wasn't much, but it could definitely make a difference in their meager existence. Nothing else mattered but full and sole custody of her daughter even if it was without any child support. Carol could barely remember a happier day than when it was official. She was no longer married.

Time had passed, four years since she had stopped being Mrs. Edward Pieter. It had gotten to where Carol didn't even think about the bastard anymore, not even a fleeting thought. It had been good… no, it had been great. She had found herself happy enough to meet a wonderful, amazing and patient man. Tyreese, Sophia and she had created a happy little family.

And then her damn former mother-in-law had called yesterday to tell her that Ed was dead. The idiot hadn't learned his lesson. Ed had gotten behind the wheel again after more than just a few drinks. He had wrapped his crappy Toyota around a light pole. He had been killed instantly.

At first Carol hadn't been sure why Alice had called her beyond just to notify them that her monster of a son was dead. Ed hadn't bothered to call or email or write his daughter in five years, or at least the four years when he'd known where they were. It had terrified Carol for months after his release and after their divorce to think that Ed was just going to show up and steal her Sophia away or try and drag them both back into their old lives. Alice sent Sophia a card at Christmas and in July for her birthday, always with ten dollars and signed love grandma and daddy. Even Sophia knew they weren't from her father, knowing he probably wasn't even aware they were sent. It wasn't much, but her grandmother did think of her at least twice a year.

So it wasn't until after a few minutes on the phone that Carol finally realized Alice wasn't calling because she was bereaved her only son was dead – Alice did have two fat and lazy daughters to keep her company in her old age. No, Alice was calling because she was annoyed. The bitter old woman was annoyed that Carol and Sophia were still listed as the primary recipients on Ed's accounts in case of his death. Alice couldn't get at his money unless they signed it all over to her.

Her fat and lazy ex-husband hadn't bothered to remove her name even after four years. Now she was being forced to listen to her former mother-in-law complain about the complications of death certificates and insurance payouts. Alice ranted on about how Ed had intended that money for her, that she needed it since her government issued checks just weren't covering the entirety of her cable bill. It was then that Carol had realized Ed hadn't died yesterday or that day or even a few days before. No… Ed had been dead two weeks already. Two damn weeks and that woman hadn't thought to tell her granddaughter until it had inconvenienced herself.

The rest of the conversation had not gone well. Alice Pieter did not get what she wanted, in fact she got a few choice words from Carol, ones the small framed woman hadn't dared uttered while married to her brutish son. The phone call ended with an angry slamming of the phone into its cradle and a gratifying feeling in Carol's chest.

Carol had stood there a moment, her breath still coming in angry bursts, before she turned around to see her daughter standing there. Fourteen year old Sophia Ann Pieter stood blankly in front of her in the kitchen with a pop can clenched tightly in her hand. Sophia must have come from her upstairs studying for a snack and heard the conversation, at least Carol's angrier rebuttal of her ex-husband's death. Her young daughter's face was emotionless as she asked if it was true. Was her dad dead?

Carol hadn't been able to find her voice, her throat too tight at the frozen expression on her daughter's face. She had only nodded in affirmation. Tyreese had come in to the kitchen then upon hearing Sophia ask her question. With her answer given, Sophia had started to shake, and then the tears had started to follow. Both Carol and Tyreese had gone to her, holding her tightly. Sophia had been upset at first but settled down, going to bed fairly early for a teenager.

Like Carol, Sophia had insisted she was fine today and had gone to school. Carol had watched her daughter carefully before agreeing. She hadn't understood her daughter's tears the day before when presented with the fact that their tormentor was finally gone. The man had hardly been a thought in their daily lives for years. Carol wouldn't have thought Sophia had cared, but apparently she had by her reaction of grief. Carol guessed that Ed was at least her father, although he'd never been a very good one. The worst of the beatings had always gone to Carol; she had tried to shield Sophia as much as possible.

Tyreese seemed too hoover around her with the same care she was giving Sophia. More than once, Tyreese had asked her if she was okay. Why wouldn't she be? The monster that had tortured her for fifteen years, the slapping hand, the sweaty body on top of her, the nasty, degrading voice, was gone. Why would she be upset? There was absolutely no reason for her to have had troubling sleeping the night before, just that she was worried about Sophia's reaction. And it wasn't the reason she was so jittery and tense the next morning. No, Ed Pieter had no more effect on her, not anymore. He was dead.

Her wonderful boyfriend had told her to just stay home, but Sophia had gone to school. There was no reason for her to sit around at home. Carol had stayed, not going with him to start morning rush per their usual. The little diner wasn't a huge success, but it did well in their little town. Tyreese had always wanted to open a restaurant, something small and homey. After his parents had passed, both he and Sasha had taken their inheritances and applied them to their dreams, both making their town a little better for it.

Carol had taken her morning off to make a few phone calls. It seemed Alice Pieter was correct. Her name was still on most of her husband's accounts. There was a small life insurance policy of twenty thousand dollars from his work along with decent sized pension. Beyond that, there wasn't much more. The man had never saved much, but it was something. All together it was just under six figures, a hell of a lot more than a single mother with a college bound daughter had.

In the five years since leaving her old life behind, Carol had worked hard on building a new, more secure one for her and Sophia. Money was still tight despite living and sharing expenses with Tyreese. Despite his protests, Carol refused to not carry her own weight with bills, never wanting to depend on a man for her money again. The money Ed had perhaps unintentionally left them could very much change their lives. It would give them security and a college fund, a stable future.

Alice might want that money, but Carol knew she deserved it. She had earned it over fifteen years. With each punch, each kick, each night that man had huffed and grunted over her, she had earned that money. Despite the hurt and humiliation Carol had endured, she found she didn't actually want the money. She would actually be fine just letting Alice have her way if it hadn't been for Sophia. Her daughter deserved the money even more than Carol had earned it. Sophia was smart and strong and could make something of herself with a college degree. Her baby was going to have options.

There was still more to do with the paperwork and transfer of funds, but the initial phone calls had been started. Carol had spoken with more people and had been shuffled on to more departments than she could remember. She had a list of items to do including paperwork to file, death certificates to request and another phone call to disappoint a former in-law. All tasks she could do later, work and Tyreese needed her today.

And now here she sat. Carol sat in her parked car, hands still gripping the steering wheels with white knuckles and tense arms. All morning she had rushed through her tasks and phone calls to get to work, and now she was here and she was stuck. Her chest had somehow gotten smaller, her breathing was hard. There just didn't seem to be enough air. A heavy weight seemed to be crushing down upon her.

Ed Pieter was dead.

Ed _fucking_ Peletier was dead.

The first man to tell her she was beautiful. The dashing fellow who had said he loved her and wanted to take care of her after both her parents had died unexpectedly within a year of each other. The new husband that had let her know she was getting a little on the thick side and to watch her figure better; Ed hadn't wanted her to be unhealthy. The guy that had told her only whores wore eye shadow. The reason behind why her hair had been kept in a short style for so many years, so that no one could pull her or catch her by it. The rapist who had held her down as he had sweated and rutted on her despite pleas not to. The bastard that had learned to hit below the shoulders and above the knees after the police came by because the neighbors had called them again, learning to leave no visible marks. The worthless pile who had called her lazy and stupid and so much worse, whose eyes had started to look at her precious little Sophia in a way that had made her skin crawl.

Ed was gone. He was dead. He was never, ever coming back again. He was never going to slap her again; he was never going to hurt either of them again.

Carol Pieter at never felt so free and so absolutely crushed at the same moment. She pulled in sobbing breath and let it all out. She cried, hard and loud, her whole body shaking with the effort. It had finally hit he, she was truly _free_.

She was so encompassed in her own distress that Carol didn't notice the figure by her car until her passenger door was opened. She wiped at her eyes, startled by the noise, looking over to see Daryl Dixon. His hulking figure was darkened by the sun at his back, but Carol knew he was frowning as he looked down at her.

"What the hell, Carol? You alright?" Daryl asked, his voice gruff but not angry. He was genuinely concerned about her.

Carol didn't want him to see her this way. She didn't want anyone to see her. She wasn't supposed to be crying about that bastard. She wasn't weak and pathetic anymore. What the hell was wrong with her?

She wiped at her face again, knowing it was red and blotchy, but there was nothing Carol could do about that. "Nothing. I – I… nothing, Daryl."

Daryl didn't believe her of course. He looked back at the diner for a moment, his chiseled features highlighted by the sun before he turned his dark blue eyes back to her. Daryl looked as if he'd been considering going in to fetch Tyreese. Carol was only mildly grateful when Daryl didn't walk towards the diner but rather got into the car with her. She really wanted to be alone, but preferred Tyreese not know what a mess she was at the moment.

"Really… Daryl, it's just a bad start to the day," Carol partially lied with a sniffle, her eyes avoiding his piercing ones.

Daryl grumbled as he shut the door, seating himself in the small car with her. "Carol…" he growled lowly, urging her to talk.

Her lower lip wavered, trembled under the weight of her freedom again. She hated not being able to control herself, that god awful feeling of uselessness and weakness.

"Is it Sophia?" probed Daryl.

Carol shook her head. Tears were threatening to fall again. She brushed her hand up to rub them away before they had a chance to escape. _Get a grip, Carol_ , she chastised herself.

"It Tyreese? Did he…" Daryl started cautiously, unable to say more but the fire was already in his eyes. His jaw ticked with protective intensity.

She shook her head vehemently. "No… no… both are fine. Everything is –"

Daryl stopped her. "It ain't."

Carol sighed regretfully. Everything wasn't fine, and she didn't know why the hell not. She was free. She was _fucking_ free so why the hell was she freaking out and crying in the front seat of her car?

Of all the people in her life, Daryl Dixon might be the only person who might be able to understand. They never really talked about, dark memories from their past. Both had shared enough for both of them to recognize they'd led similar lives in the past, ones filled with pain and fear. Carol was certain that Daryl knew what it was to be afraid, to be absolutely terrified for one's own life.

"I… I got a phone call. Ed is dead."

"Your ex-husband?"

Carol nodded, her eyes turning downcast again. She could feel them stinging her eyes again.

Daryl sat silently apparently as confused as she was. The silence on his part was almost as frustrating as her own strange emotions. Carol angrily wiped at her face, grinding into her traitorous eyes as she growled with frustration.

"I don't know what's wrong with me. He'd dead. He's gone," she snapped, releasing an exasperated breath. "I don't have a single good thought for the man. I'm glad he's dead. I'm happy he won't be able to ever hurt us again. So why the hell am I crying?"

Daryl looked at her with soulful blue eyes. He didn't say anything, just regarded her with a thoughtful stare. His own mind seemed to be turning her question over within; at least he didn't seem to understand either. When he finally relaxed back and turned to look out the front, Daryl shifted uncomfortably as if he couldn't look at her for what he needed to say.

"Don't know," he muttered with a halfhearted shrug. "Don't know why I drank myself into obviation for two damn straight days after my old man kicked the bucket. Didn't spill a damn tear for the old bastard, but my head weren't on straight for a damn long time. Fucked me up."

"Why?" Carol felt they both needed to know.

She didn't know how bad Daryl had it, but she knew it had to have been as bad as Ed because grown men don't generally jerk away from casual touch. Tyreese knew a little of her past, but not everything. He didn't know her husband choked her so hard and long once that she'd thought she'd died, only to wake up the next morning naked and sore and cried because she was still alive. Tyreese didn't know that the scar on her inner thigh, the small crescent shaped one, was from a cigarette he'd put out on her once as a joke. No, Tyreese knew a little, but she would never tell him all of it.

Daryl released a long breath and shrugged again, still not looking at her.

Carol slumped in her seat, so tired and upset.

Daryl shot her a glance, frowning at her state. "Maybe… maybe because it's finally done. It was done before, you know, but once they were dead… it wasn't ever gonna happen again. I might have left the asshole behind years before he died, but he was still out there, you know? Lurking…" He paused a moment to swallow a lump stuck in his throat. "Waiting. Then… then they're gone and it's finally done. Ain't gonna happen again, not ever. You're free."

Carol nodded, unable to keep her body from starting to shake. She was _free_. She was never had to be afraid of a loud noise or a face in the crowd. _Free_. She started to cry again, but didn't care if Daryl was right there anymore. She was going to cry, she was just going to let it all out.

Daryl reached over and Carol leaned in to bury her face in his shoulder. He was rigid, but his arm went around her to hold her and let her cry. And cry she did. She wet his shoulder, letting out more than one sobbing breath. She was a mess, but it felt so good to let it all out.

A time later, Carol pulled up drained but lighter. She breathed in a deep breath. She gave Daryl a weak smile as she dried her eyes.

"Sorry about that," Carol said sheepishly, dapping at her face with a tissue.

Daryl gave a tilt of his head as he slumped back into the seat. Carol knew he wouldn't make a big deal out of it. He looked uncomfortable, his eyes already looking out the window and away from her. He understood but that didn't mean he wanted to talk more about it. For that, Carol was grateful.

A small car pulled into the parking spot next to his truck. Daryl straightened in his seat instantly, a sudden eagerness springing up in his body.

"Beth's here," he declared.

Carol turned her bleary eyes on the little car. Sure enough, Beth was parking the car. It was easy enough to see it was Beth from the brightly colored scarf she had wrapped around her neck; it was unique and kind of hard to miss. Carol shot a curious look to Daryl, but he only had eyes for his lady. The couple had stopped in the diner once or twice but it wasn't their usual thing to stop in during the day.

"Beth meeting you for lunch?" Carol questioned softly. "Best go get her." She hoped he didn't feel the need to stay and babysit her longer. She definitely didn't want to intrude.

"We're here to talk to you," Daryl confessed.

That statement surprised Carol, and it showed on her face. "What?"

His hand went to the door handle as Daryl jerked his head towards Beth, who was exiting her little car. "You ready?"

Carol was instantly flustered, not completely understanding what Daryl was asking. "Wait… Why me?"

Daryl flashed her a smile. A real, genuine smile, not one of those curved up corners of his mouth that he was prone to. "Got somethin' to tell you," he replied mysteriously before he hopped out of the car.

"Daryl!" she called after his exasperatedly. Damn that man, Carol didn't think she could take another surprise.

Carol shot herself a quick look in her review mirror. The lines surrounding her blue eyes seemed deeper than before, not to mention the red tinge lingering there. It wasn't exactly obvious she had just been crying her eyes out but she didn't exactly look stellar. She would need to avoid Tyreese for a few minutes until her face calmed down further so he wouldn't ask too many questions.

Daryl had called out to Beth, stopping her from entering the diner. Together, the pair waited for Carol as she came around the car, fussing with hair and ensuring it was properly tucked behind her ears. Carol suddenly felt a little bashful that this man, her friend, had just gotten out of her car in front of his girlfriend. Carol had met Beth only a few times, most of her interaction was with Daryl and the wee Hope. Daryl adored Beth, and Carol could easily see why; Beth was a beautiful woman with a kind smile.

Carol did not want to give the younger woman any concerns. Daryl was good-looking enough… okay, he was really good-looking, enough to make any woman's eyes linger a little longer, but she loved Tyreese. Carol loved Tyreese more than she'd ever thought possible, so much that she had physically ached last month when he'd been ill and in the hospital. Thankfully, he had recovered just fine. He was just inside, working and happy, and suddenly Carol couldn't wait to see him even if asked questions about her blotchy face.

Beth gave her a glancing smile at her approach but her true attention was on the handsome man before her. Even Daryl couldn't seem to contain the smile he'd flashed at her previously. His eyes focused solely on Beth.

It was too cold to be standing out there as grinning fools but neither of them moved to go inside as Carol stopped next to them. "What is going on, you two?"

Neither answered promptly, their eyes seeming to be having a private conversation. A telling blush highlighted Beth's cheeks as she tipped her head to defer to Daryl.

"Pookie, you are killin' me here. Tell me," Carol demanded, hands going to her hips. There really was only so much stress in a day that a woman could take.

The nickname probably as much as his news caused a redness to brighten the tips of Daryl's exposed ears. "We're gettin' married."

Carol's eyes flashed wide as tears stung them again. She would be crying all day at this rate. At least these tears were ones of joy.

With a swarming hug, Carol rushed forward and hugged Beth first, then Daryl. "Congratulations! Oh, that is so exciting. We need to tell Tyreese."

"Woulda told y'all together but you yelled at me," Daryl teased good-humoredly, gently hugging the small framed woman back.

Carol gave him a light swat to his shoulder. "Don't you go blamin' it on me! You know he always thinks he's the last to know everything. You get on in there and tell him."

Together they entered the diner. Almost as if he knew they were coming, Tyreese was waiting behind the counter at Carol's normal spot. Tyreese came around the corner as the trio entered. Even as Tyreese greeted their friends, his concerned eyes were on Carol. She knew he was probably aware she'd been here the whole time. He might even know she'd been crying in the car. Carol gave him a true smile to set his questioning eyes at ease. She knew she needed to talk to him, she understood that. She had to let him know she was okay, really okay now. Even if Tyreese didn't completely understand the way Daryl did, Carol needed to let Tyreese in.

Her silent reassurance and the exciting news Daryl and Beth presented Tyreese seemed to divert him enough for the moment. Tyreese pulled Daryl into a giant bear hug, thumping him hard on the back as he congratulated the newly engaged man.

Carol took the opportunity to give another hug Beth, pulling her in tightly. "Please," was all she was able to whisper as emotion surged in her. Carol wanted to say more, but her breath was caught and the words wouldn't come out. Carol wanted to ask the younger woman to please be understanding and patient. To please know Daryl loved her, and to please love him back. Please be there for him, please don't hurt him, please understand the dark is hard at night. Please don't worry when he needed space. _Please_. She knew a lot of her own baggage was welling up, but that didn't mean she didn't want those things for her friend.

Happy tears welled out of Carol's eyes again as she gave Beth an extended squeeze. "Please," escaped her again, more breathless than she'd meant. She hoped she wasn't weirding out the younger woman with her outpour.

Beth held her back just as tightly. "I will. I promise," she told her. Beth understood; Carol should have known. With her angelica fair hair and heavenly eyes, Beth was a true angel. And Daryl deserved one.

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